


Wanting Inspiration

by Teland



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Happy Ending, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Romance, Sexual Fantasy, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-10-20
Updated: 1998-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-09 17:44:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20998820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teland/pseuds/Teland
Summary: "What the hell are you *doing*?"





	Wanting Inspiration

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Rye for beta!

Mulder sat in the amazingly un-cheerful glare from his   
bedroom lamp, idly typing in assorted bureaucratic phrases   
in an attempt to explain his little vacation to Antarctica.   
The report would be, as usual, incomplete and well-worth   
the reaming he'd take from Skinner for it.

But it was pro forma, as were the dress-downs. At times he   
thought of his life like a Swedish film -- depressing,  
incomprehensible and oozing with a vague impression of   
futility that may or may not have been on purpose. 

But he knew these were Bedroom Thoughts. He was only here  
to keep himself from popping in a vid and jerking off.   
These days the urge to just willfully fuck up was a   
powerful one.

He remembered England... senior year and an endless string   
of Dead White European Males to analyze and no Phoebe to   
work him over in that emotionally entertaining way she had.  
There were drugs, and dim, crowded little rooms thick with   
the haze of marijuana. Sometimes heroin... though even he   
knew not to stay at those too long. 

But he'd let himself get helplessly stoned, and when some   
hollow-eyed boy with clever fingers would touch him and   
ask... he'd follow.

It was always all right, even when they laughed at his   
attempts to tell them his name, even when he had to get   
directions in order to find his way back to the dorms. 

He'd find himself on his knees on a chill wood floor, bent   
over some ratty old couch, and the feel of another man's   
cock sliding slick and warm inside him was all it took to   
make it all right.

There was no better way to assure himself that he was truly   
worthless. And the ones that paid... Well, he may not have   
ever been a rentboy, but he'd always liked nice clothes. 

He wondered what Scully was up to. He wondered if she'd   
ever actually talk to him about his attempt to touch her   
someplace she could feel it... Or if he'd only get more of   
her oh-so-fair casual touches. 

//Touch my back, I'll touch your shoulder, but nothing   
more...//

He wanted to hold her hand again, even if she'd find a way   
to make him pay for the privilege.

Everything has its price, and everyone pays.

He thought of Krycek -- Alex -- and the rough brush of   
stubble on his cheek. Of the following two nights, when   
he'd shown up unannounced and demanded his own   
payment.

Mulder had paid and paid and loved every minute. Every   
second of hot breath on his neck and that calloused hand   
on his cock. He'd learned quickly that Alex could make   
him beg for it.

But Mulder also knew that Alex wouldn't ask if he didn't   
have his own needs. He wondered if Alex ever thought of   
the price.

He thought so... Alex had never come back after that. He   
sometimes wished he could just know for sure the other man   
was dead. He couldn't even tell himself it was because of   
the terrible not-knowing. No, there seemed to be a definite   
limit on the quantity of lies he was allowed to tell   
himself.

He wanted him dead for being able to walk way. For not   
having this deep, pulsing need that made Mulder long to   
scream, to fight, to fuck himself raw. 

//If he did, he'd be here.//

Another few words typed in and he decided to pack it up.   
Made a mental note to go after a few of the agents he'd   
noticed spending too much time in the evidence lockers.   
Perhaps a little blackmail. Something to clear the haze.

//Or make it deeper.//

He laughed at himself, then. There was no way he'd ever be   
able to do that, though the thought had its own black   
cheer. The really sad thing about it is that it would only   
make him appear more normal to the rest of the crew. There   
was something deeply sick about having to file oneself down   
to be among the rest of the herd, and he'd always avoided   
it with something like pride.

He told himself the ends justified the means.

//And just what are the ends this time, Mr. Mulder?

//Oh, the usual. Self-destruction, oblivion...

//So are we starting the suicide process again?

//Maybe.

//So why the fuck don't we just use the gun?

//Well, see, that's far too easy.

//You're a sick sonofabitch.

//Indeed.//

He closed it up and stretched out on the bed, plain blue   
sheets that were a gift from his mother several Christmases   
ago. They were dusty, and his nose itched. 

//Fucking useless. Can't even remember to pull the fucking   
coverlet up.//

He was still horny, and the press and rub of his cock   
against his jeans, against the mattress, was a distraction   
of admirable power.

The last time he'd used the bed was with Alex, and as he   
worked and twisted on the sheets he thought of a hand   
holding his neck, pushing his head down.

He pulled himself to his knees, groaning at the loss of   
contact, at the rush of cool air against his heated crotch.   
Head down, ass in the air, waiting for the next slap, the   
next bite. Praying for the solid reality of Alex's cock,   
knowing it wouldn't come for a long while. There was no   
heat behind him now, but this was how it had been.

Mulder had a love for versimilitude.

//I should be naked. I should be bare.

//There's no one here to touch you.

//There's no one here to see.//

He broke the game long enough to tear himself out of his   
clothes, cheating a bit by stroking himself, but he was   
just as rough with himself as 

"Alex--"

The choked-off cry made him look around, made him blush   
and tear his hands away for himself. But he was hard as   
rock.

No one but himself, no voice but his own, no hand not   
attached to his own body. He wanted Alex to come: he   
wanted that pretty peach mouth wrapped around his cock   
and the unmistakable husk of his moans. 

//I want him to hold me.//

He got back on his knees, rubbed his face against the   
crumpled sheets. Pretended he could still smell Alex   
there. And then he let his mind free, remembering,   
elaborating...

//He said 'Don't move,' but I did anyway. Wiggled my ass   
like a slut. 

//And begged. You begged.

//"Please, Alex, give it to me--"

//He slapped you on the ass.//

Mulder rolled with the imaginary blow, then did it again   
because he'd forgotten how good it felt to work himself in   
the chill night air. To move like a whore.

Or maybe he just hadn't noticed. 

//You want this bad, don't you, Fox?//

"Don't call me--"

And more blows had fallen then and Mulder rolled with   
them, too, remembering how it had hurt, remembering trying   
to rear up only to feel that iron hand close around his   
nape.

//Can't ever give them your name.

//He's not them...

//Close enough for this, for now.//

He slammed his head back down and began to pant. Felt   
Alex settle his heat along his back and rock much too   
slowly. Remembered the cool metal feel of the buttons   
on his ass, the hardness behind.

"Please..."

//Please what?//

"More..."

//He hissed then, bit you on the ear.//

Mulder turned his head awkwardly, tried to make it hurt.

//He ran his hand down your body, pinched a nipple...//

Mulder twisted his own nipple and 

"Harder!"

//Fucking whore.

//Didn't say that--

//He should have.

//He used his nails, then.//

Mulder moaned into the mattress, braced his knees and   
tried to bring his ass up higher. Alex would like it that   
way.

//Tell me how much you want it.//

"I want it. God, Alex, I want it so bad--"

//What will you do for it?//

Mulder pushed back a precise few inches, felt air where he   
knew Alex had been, and rocked.

"Anything you want."

"You don't know what I want."

The voice was never confusable as part of the fantasy. His   
mind couldn't make that buttery husk. Mulder thought of   
conjurings, of spells gone hopelessly awry, and was glad   
he was turned away from the bedroom door.

"What the hell are you doing here, Krycek?"

"What the hell are you *doing*?"

"I was just about to jerk off, actually. You make for good   
masturbatory fantasies."

Mulder twisted his own nipple again and moaned, biting it   
off so he could hear Alex's reaction -- a click of teeth.

"I do, hunh? Is this what you've been doing? Thinking   
about me?"

"Sometimes it's Skinner."

"You ever fucked him? Did he make you scream?"

"Jealous?"

"Fuck off, Mulder. I could just leave."

The very real anger in Alex's voice made the flush   
dissipate from Mulder's face -- he could feel it -- and he   
turned on his back, stroked his softening cock back to   
hardness.

"Yeah, you could. But you won't."

//Please don't.//

"What are you gonna do to make me stay?"

"You've already said I don't know what you want."

"You think I'm gonna make this easy for you, *Fox*?"

"Gee, *Krycek*, I wouldn't dream of it."

Alex snorted. "Don't you ever get tired of fucking   
yourself?"

"You get used to it."

"Yeah. Yeah, I bet you did."

The softness in Alex's voice was too much to take and   
Mulder turned away again, pulled his hand from his cock   
and rested it on his thigh.

"I don't need your brand of psychoanalysis, Alex."

"I thought you wanted me to stay." The smile in his   
voice was invitation and challenge.

"I was hoping for sex."

And the feel of Alex's weight settling on the mattress was   
a quiet shock, but Mulder stayed motionless and hoped. 

"I think we both know that's going to happen anyway."

"I wouldn't want you to sacrifice--"

But his words descended into a groan when Alex took the   
nipple he'd been torturing into his mouth and sucked,   
softly and steadily. He didn't use his tongue. 

Mulder pushed his hands into the other man's hair and   
pressed Alex hard against him, hissing at the feel of it on   
his palms,

He wanted more, but Alex shook off his touch, moved to   
the other nipple and bit him hard once, and again.

"Christ, yeah--"

Alex pulled off again, resting his hand against Mulder's   
sternum to keep him down. "Why are you doing this to   
yourself?"

"This from a man trying to drive me into a homicidal   
rage?"

"If I wanted to do that I'd just bring up--"

"Don't."

Alex nodded, smirked. "All right."

Mulder pressed himself up against the hand, but Alex only   
narrowed his eyes and leaned a little more of his weight on   
him. Mulder sighed. 

"Fine. What, precisely did you want to know?"

"I want to know what you've been doing with yourself,   
Mulder." A look around the dim room, small moue of   
distaste at the aging cartons of takeout. "What you were   
planning to do."

"You think you know all the answers already."

Brush of lips along his temple, too gentle. "Humor me."

"I'm sick of this, Alex. The answers just out of my reach,   
the lack of a life, a lover who may or may not be dead in   
some fucking alley..."

Alex winced at that last and Mulder felt a stab of guilt at   
the run of his earlier thoughts.

"I'm not dead, Mulder."

Mulder reached for Alex's hand and tugged until he eased   
off a bit, twined his fingers with Alex's.

//I'll give you this, even if you don't know what I'm   
paying for.//

"I know, Alex. I just want... I want something I can hold   
onto."

Mulder felt his stomach twist at the sound of his own   
words, wondered when the rule against lying to himself   
extended to Alex. He was almost eager for the other man's   
scorn, for the perfect excuse...

The first brush of Alex's mouth against his felt like a   
goodbye. The second felt like...

"I'm sorry, Mulder... I don't... I'll try to find a way."

"Has anyone ever believed in you, Alex?" 

The words sounded cruel, but Mulder knew his voice was   
soft. Alex chuckled against his mouth, ran a clever tongue   
over Mulder's lip. 

"Not that I know of..."

"First time for everything, I guess."

"Yeah. What you said."

"It only turns me on when you tell me I'm right, Alex."

Alex snickered, ran his lips over Mulder's throat. "So tell   
me why..."

"Yes?"

"Why weren't you fucking me senseless when we were   
partners? Was it the gel?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Dammit. When I think of..." A tongue in his navel and   
Mulder arched to meet it. "... all that I could've had..."

"You've got me now. You're wasting time."

"So I take it that sex now wouldn't ruin the mood?"

"I think we can handle that."

And Alex was moving down and down, nuzzling his crotch,   
breathing deep, and Mulder felt his hands fisting the   
sheets. 

"Mmmm... yeah... I want you, Mulder. I wanted you for   
years..." And Alex's mouth was heat and tightness on the   
head of his cock and Mulder bucked and moaned.

The pleasure of pretending to be tied, of being helpless   
before Alex's ruthless assault, was nothing to that of   
running his hands through dark hair and pulling him   
close.

//Yes, I want you. Show me how much you want me.//

Alex rolled his head under Mulder's hands and took him   
deeper, groaning around his length and sucking hard. It   
wouldn't be long like this and Mulder wanted--

"Yes, please, Alex... more, I need more..."

And there was the graze of teeth he wanted, the wildly   
enthusiastic tongue along the underside of his cock and   
Mulder could only spread his legs wider, pull his knees up   
and offer himself for the devouring.

Alex was just as greedy as he could want and Mulder let   
his cries descend into the nonsense of need, burning and   
rising into something like perfection with each pull.

It gathered in his balls, in the base of his spine and   
Mulder felt a fleeting urge to warn the other man but knew   
that would only earn him a quizzical eyebrow. 

//Yes, of course you're gonna come for me. You're   
gonna--//

"Alex--!"

The sensation was that of his soul being pulled right from   
his body and Mulder had never felt so clean--

Mulder came back to himself with the crash of his body back   
down to the mattress -- he'd been arched into a bow and his   
muscles would clearly be complaining tomorrow. For now,   
though, he was much too sensitive for the tongue lapping   
him clean and he tugged Alex up for a kiss of himself and   
the urgency of the other man's desire.

"Mulder, I want--"

"Top drawer, just like last time..." And even Mulder was   
impressed with the lazy purr in his voice.

Another quick kiss but Alex was serious. "No... not like   
last time. Right?"

//Oh, this is serious.

//Yeah.//

Mulder ran his hand along Alex's cheek, sucking in a sharp   
breath at the slow, gentle nuzzle. "No, not like last   
time."

Alex kissed his fingertips, nibbled at them.

"Although..."

A raised eyebrow, but Alex never stopped nibbling at him,   
rubbing himself restlessly again Mulder's hip.

"I wouldn't mind another spanking."

"You're a sick sonofabitch."

"Indeed."

"I'll see what I can do... next time."

"What about this time?"

And Alex finally pulled away, rummaged with expert speed   
in the night table for a condom and slick. "This time...   
this time I'm gonna fuck the hell out of you."

"Mmm... be careful, it's hard to get rid of demons once   
they're exorcised."

"Worst houseguests in the world. C'mon, Mulder, spread   
for me."

Mulder immediately slipped his calves around Alex's neck   
and gave a tentative squeeze, earning himself a bite to the   
ankle. 

"Faster, Alex, I'm not gonna bre--"

The first touch of the lube was much too cool and he   
jerked, hissing.

"Sorry, sorry..."

"Do it--"

"God, you're so fucking sexy..."

Mulder gave up on the shoulder game and braced his heels   
on the mattress, pushing himself down on Alex's finger,   
fucking himself in the hopes of driving Alex crazy enough   
to work him faster.

As the other man was no longer speaking anything   
resembling English he figured his plan was working.   
Another finger and Mulder felt his bones melting again.

There was nothing like this, another man stretching him for   
his own pleasure -- the thought refused to continue. It was   
wrong, this was for him as much as it was for Alex and   
there was no way any part of his mind was going to let him   
forget that.

//For now...//

"Are you ready for me?"

"Always, always, please..."

Alex took him with a slow rock and Mulder was grateful   
for the lessened urgency. He wanted to watch the other   
man's face and he did, taking in the parted lips and   
tightly closed eyes with the hunger that only comes from   
wanting to know yourself desired. 

This was perfect.

"Fuck me, Alex, c'mon--"

A groan of near pain and Alex started to move, a liquid   
glide that picked up speed and intensity with each stroke.   
Mulder braced himself more steadily and worked himself down   
on   
Alex's cock...

"Yes--"

... taking the pulse and throb as his due, even if he   
didn't quite feel worthy of the moans. 

It didn't take long before Alex's thrusts grew ragged and   
Mulder bore down as much as he could, milking the other   
man's cock with ruthless attention.

"Come for me, Alex, I wanna see it--"

"Mulder, oh Christ--"

A raw howl and Mulder watched Alex's entire body shudder   
for an endless moment before he collapsed against him,   
nearly knocking the breath from his body.

Mulder wrapped his arms around Alex's body, damp and hot   
with sweat, and the rough pants were as fine as the   
poorly-rhythmed kisses against his throat, as the solid   
weight of his lover. 

//You're going to give me a way to reach you, or I will   
hunt you down and kill you.//

"Mulder..."

"Stay the night."

"I couldn't... couldn't move if I wanted to."

"Damn, does that mean I can't use the cuffs?"

"Ask me in the morning."

~~~~  
End.  
~~~~


End file.
